Texas Wildcat Read Online Free Page A

charge of Blanchard when he went charging in there with the blown section of pipe. He hadn’t expected to meet a woman who had beauty, intelligence and genuine compassion. Sam looked back down at her. Yes, that was what appealed to him the most about her: the fact that she really cared. Old man Blanchard had always wanted to satisfy his customers by providing a quality product. And his lovely, headstrong daughter was cast from the same mold. Sam found her appealing and couldn’t regret the explosive meeting that had brought them together.
    He drew in a breath and his broad brow furrowed with worry. You’d better sleep, Kelly Blanchard, he thought to himself, because when you wake up, there will be more problems to deal with. His frown deepened. How could this tall, proud woman affect him so deeply? Was it her spitfire quality? Her courage? Grimacing, Sam knew he had no easy answer. All he was sure of was that when the situation calmed down, he wanted the opportunity to know her better.
    There were a myriad of questions he wanted to ask. Did she have someone waiting for her back in Pittsburgh? More than likely. She was too damn pretty not to have a crowd of male admirers around her at all times. Children? If he recalled correctly, he remembered that Blanchard’s only daughter had gotten a divorce a year ago. And it had been a messy one according to the gossip around the oil and gas industry. In this industry, everyone knew everyone else’s business. Had her ex-husband been unable to deal with her? Sam’s blue eyes twinkled at that thought. Yes, she would be a handful for any man who was threatened by a competent, assertive young woman with brains and moxie to back her up.
    He remained an hour before carefully extricating himself and gently depositing Kelly on the couch. He located an afghan and placed it over her. Dusk was settling over the city and if he didn’t leave now, he’d end up falling asleep with her cradled in the crook of his good arm. That wasn’t a bad thought. But he sensed she would feel embarrassed enough about her outburst of tears. Proud women cried in private. A lambent flame burned in his eyes as he reached down, allowing his fingers to trail through the thick tresses of her hair. He had been right: it was like silk. Reluctantly, he broke contact and left the report on the desk with several scribbled notes pointing out certain paragraphs of the text that needed her attention.
    * * *
    “I’m sorry, Kelly, we just can’t use Blanchard Pipe anymore.” Coots Matthews gave her a regretful look, casting an uneasy glance at his partner, Boots Hansen. “We’d like to, honey, but this is the third time in a month that pipe has failed. We can’t risk our men this way. Conditions at an oil or gas blowout are hazardous enough without our being unable to trust our water piping.” Coots shifted uncomfortably. “You understand?”
    Kelly remained silent as she listened to their softly spoken apology. When she had groggily awakened around midnight the night before a flood of embarrassment had filled her. But after reading the report well into the early morning hours, she had more serious things to worry about than her behavior with Sam Tyler. She was convinced something was terribly wrong at Blanchard Pipe.
    Her green eyes flashed with pent-up annoyance. “Boots, how long did you know my Dad?”
    “A good twenty years,” he admitted.
    Kelly swung her gaze to Coots. He was the taller and quieter of the famous firefighting duo. Today his face was even more serious than usual. “How about you, Coots?”
    “I recollect it was going on twenty-five.”
    She straightened up in the chair. They sat in the conference room at an oval mahogany table. She tapped her finger on the wood surface. “And never once in all those years did you see a Blanchard pipe blow?” Her voice was charged with emotion and conviction. She knew her father’s standards of excellence in a product. He believed in paying a good price